


Royals - Part VII

by Kit_Kat21



Series: Royals [7]
Category: Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/M, Modern Era, Modern Royalty
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-15
Updated: 2017-11-15
Packaged: 2019-02-02 18:27:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,502
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12731919
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kit_Kat21/pseuds/Kit_Kat21
Summary: Jon didn’t care. He wasn’t the King and Sansa wasn’t the Queen. Not right now. Right now, he was a husband who had just found out that day that his wife was pregnant with their first baby and he wasn’t going to act like that was wrong.





	Royals - Part VII

…

 

“You are so sexy, I can’t even stand it,” Jon murmured, his lips at the corner of her jaw and his hands grasping her hips as he gently held her to the wall.

 

“And you’re so stupid, it boggles my mind,” Sansa teased him; a smile across her lips.

 

Jon then growled in her ear and Sansa giggled. Actually giggled. Only Jon could make the Queen in the North actually produce a sound that sounded _anything_ like a giggle.

 

His hair was pulled back into its neat man-bun for the dinner that evening and she didn’t want to mess it up. Otherwise, she’d be running her fingers through his hair right now. Instead, she settled for curling her fingers onto his biceps and holding on.

 

“Honestly, though,” she said as his lips softly scraped down the side of her neck, the scratching of his beard sending the most delicious shiver throughout her body. “All I told your aunt was that we would discuss it with Arya.”

 

Jon lifted his head to look into her face. “But it was the _way_ you told her that.”

 

“I was simply telling her the truth. We will talk with Arya about it. I didn’t lie.”

 

Jon smirked a little and lifted his hand, brushing it down his wife’s cheek. “I would think that my aunt got what she wanted when you and I married. The North and South are united. We’ve done our duty and she doesn’t need Arya for anything.”

 

Sansa smiled faintly, smoothing her hands down the front of his suit. “I thought we got married because we loved one another.”

 

Jon leaned in and nipped at Sansa’s bottom lip so gently and her eyes slowly closed as she let out the quietest of moans. “I’d marry you again every day if I could, Sansa,” he whispered and Sansa opened her eyes; hearing something in his tone that she wondered if even he knew he had spoken with.

 

She gave him the soft smile. “I know you would, Jon,” she assured him and he kissed her again. His hands dropped down to her hips, grasping her there, holding onto her, and her hands slid over his shoulders. “We have to go,” she told him quietly; reluctantly. “The Queen’s nephew can’t possibly be late for the dinner celebration.”

 

“I’d much rather get back to Winterfell so we can have our _own_ celebration for our _own_ baby,” Jon frowned.

 

Sansa smiled and took her turn to glide a hand over his cheek. “Soon. We can’t tell anyone for a couple more months anyway. It’s too fragile of a time. Anything can happen.”

 

“Nothing is going to happen,” Jon said in his firmest tone with his fiercest frown and Sansa smiled before leaning in and kissing him softly.

 

There was never doubt in her mind that Jon would do anything to keep her and their baby safe; even if keeping them both safe was something he actually had no control over. But she wouldn’t tell him that he had no control over any of this.

 

Her dress had an inside hidden pocket where she was keeping her phone and Sansa reached into now, pulling out her phone.

 

“Let’s take a picture before we go,” Sansa said.

 

Jon didn’t grumble – which was quite surprising. He simply put his arms around her waist and pulled her into him. Sansa gave him a smile as she turned on her camera and then held the phone out, making sure both of them were in the shot. She snapped the picture and Jon turned his head, pressing a kiss to the corner of her jaw. Sansa took another picture of the moment.

 

“That’s the one,” she decided and took a few quiet moments, posting it onto her Instagram account – saying nothing and using no tags, simply using the emojis of the crown and a red heart. Once it was posted, Sansa slipped her phone back into her hidden pocket and then looked to Jon, giving him a smile. “You ready to go?”

 

“Absolutely not,” Jon responded immediately and Sansa laughed as Jon took her hand and gently pulled her from the wall and down the hallway.

 

As they drew closer to the ballroom, the halls became more populated – mainly with Lords and Ladies from the different Southern Kingdoms. Sansa would whisper in Jon’s ear the name of those who would greet him and Jon would smile politely and shake hands with those who came up to his and Sansa, but she knew that he forgot everything the instant they moved on.

 

It wasn’t as if Jon was rude or didn’t take his duties as King of the North seriously. He definitely did. That was just it though. He cared for matters of the North. He had little interest in things that happened in the South – no matter who his aunt was or what his lineage might be. He was of the North and only concerned himself with the North.

 

One by one, the announcer would broadcast each Lord and Lady to everyone in attendance and Jon and Sansa remained waiting in the hallway for their own introductions. As Daenerys’ nephew, Jon and his Queen would be the second-to-last to be called so they waited, Sansa doing so patiently and Jon sighing every few minutes.

 

“Stop,” Sansa finally said.

 

“I just want to eat and go to bed,” Jon frowned, wondering how many people were here that he and Sansa had to wait so long before being allowed to go in.

 

He hated the pomp and circumstance of things in the South. Everything was such a huge production and it grated on his nerves. He didn’t mean to complain all of the time. He just wasn’t comfortable when he and Sansa left the North to visit King’s Landing.

 

This wasn’t his home and it never would be. Too hot and too many people and everything was so prim and proper all of the time. He just couldn’t relax while here; except when he was in his private room with only Sansa and the door was locked. But even then, he was almost convinced that there was a minute hole in the wall and someone was watching their every move.

 

“Let’s think of everything in five minute intervals,” Sansa suggested and Jon moved his eyes to look at her. "In five minutes, we'll be introduced. In five minutes after that, we'll be sitting down at our table. Five minutes after that, we'll be applauding your aunt and Jorah. And so on and so on. The evening will pass much faster if we think of it like that."

 

She looked absolutely beautiful tonight in her long dress with the long sleeves and her red hair pulled into a seemingly simple braid. Jon knew he was married to the most beautiful woman in all of Westeros – that the most beautiful woman in all of Westeros actually loved him – but he wondered if just a little bit of her beauty had to do with the baby – _their_ baby – she was now carrying inside of her.

 

Suddenly not caring who was around to see and not caring about curious eyes and gossips, Jon slid his hand over her still-flat abdomen. Sansa gasped in surprise and jumped slightly, startled, and she looked at Jon with wide eyes.

 

“Jon…” she began to protest, shaking her head.

 

Jon leaned in and kissed her though before she could say anything. He knew why they had to keep it a secret. Yes, this time was fragile for the baby, but more than that, they were here to celebrate his aunt’s pregnancy and Dany would be pissed – to put it mildly – if anything stole the spotlight from her during this momentous occasion.

 

Jon didn’t care. He wasn’t the King and Sansa wasn’t the Queen. Not right now. Right now, he was a husband who had just found out that day that his wife was pregnant with their first baby and he wasn’t going to act like that was wrong.

 

_“King Jon and Queen Sansa of the North!”_ They heard the man’s booming voice announce from inside the ballroom.

 

Jon acted as if he didn’t hear though. For someone who, moments before, had acted as if he was ready to storm into the room whether he was officially introduced or not, now, Jon made no move to go in.

 

Instead, he kept kissing Sansa and his hand remained over her abdomen and after a moment, Sansa relaxed and kissed him in return, her hand resting over his.

 

_“King Jon and Queen Sansa of the North!”_

Sansa giggled once more. “The sooner we go in, the sooner we can leave again,” she said, her eyes twinkling as she pulled her head far back enough to look into his face.

 

“Well, when you put it that way,” Jon smiled a little and Sansa laughed as he took her hand and gently began pulling her towards the ballroom before the man could announce them for a third time.

 

…

 

**Author's Note:**

> Jon and Sansa will be back home in the North in the next part. I have to get Jon out of the South before Sansa kills him for his constant complaining.


End file.
